Worst Day or Best Day of Rachel Berry's life?
by SocksXMittens
Summary: While on a trip to a show choir in Rio, the charted plane crashes, with the glee members aboard. Warning: femslash
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: Set in senior year. Follows pretty closely to the show except Kurt stayed at Dalton and Finchel 2.0 ended before school started senior year. Enjoy!**

**Rachel is Having a Very Bad Day:**

"While its great Sugar's dad was generous enough to fund a private jet," Rachel's voice dropped off as the plane dipped drastically, again. "I really wish we'd been able to take a larger, more aerodynamically solid aircraft." Her tiny fingers had a death grip of the arm rest of her seat. The larger male next to her laughed.

"Berry, we're in a private jet. Could you cool the crazy for a sec, and just, you know, appreciate where the fuck we are?" Puck looked around, trying to maintain his badass facade and still take in the sheer opulence of the plane.

Sugar's dad had said no daughter of his was going to fly coach, so the entire Glee club had found themselves aboard a tiny private plane. They were on their way to a show choir in fucking Rio De Janiero, courtesy of Mr. S and his crazy connections.

They were currently over a small mountain range on the border of Brazil, and the small plane had turned from a blessing to a curse, at least in Rachel's eyes, as the plane dipped and dropped, rocked by strong air currents.

"Only you, man-hands, would complain about a top sitch like this!" Across the aisle from them, Santana had been holed up in a row of her own, the current split between her and Brittany making her so snarky, no one had dared sit next to her. So it was just her, Puck and Rachel in the back of the plane. The rest of the Glee club was sitting two or three rows away from them. "This is tots the best thing to ever happen in Glee," Santana rolled her head along the head rest to send a glare Berry's way. "So find your balls, I know you have them somewhere and chill the fuck out!" She turned back to face the window and closed her eyes, for all intents and purposes going back to sleep.

"How does she manage to swear, insult me and try and reassure me at the same time?" Berry whispered, hysteria beginning to edge into her voice as the plane's wings dipped and swayed.

"Eeeep!" The plane started shaking violently. Rachel squeaked and clenched her eyes shut, humming the chorus from her favourite song from Funny Girl. It didn't really help.

"Berry. Chill out. We're not gonna crash. It's just fucking windy as hell up here, k? Relax." Puck tried to keep his voice mellow and soothing. His girl-bro tended to be high strung, but he didn't wanna deal with a full scale Berry freak-out at 10,000 feet. She'd probably jump outta the plane or something equally as crazy.

Rachel turned to her friend, once again shocked by the fact that she had not one but two friends! Kurt was still at Dalton academy and she only got to see him every two weeks or so, but still counted him as one of her closest confidantes. With the recent addition of Puck, who insisted she call him her "bro", she had two very different male perspectives in her life, which led to the strangest but most "badass" friendships she's ever had. Which considering they're her first and only friends, isn't saying much.

Ever since Rachel and Finn 2.0 crashed and burned, Puck's been there to step in should the bully's think it was O.K to slushie her now that she wasn't the quarterback's girlfriend anymore. He also comforted her through the realization that she may not be a straight as she's previously thought she was. And that she might not hate a certain Latina as much as she previously thought she had. That last part, more than the first, had led to some epic Berry freak-outs. Which is why Puck is getting very good at handling her shit.

He was the one that came up with new and crazy ideas to get Santana's attention. Since Santana and Brittany had very publicly fallen out two weeks ago, he'd been encouraging his midget bro to "get all up on that!" Rachel thought he might want to psychiatric help for even suggesting that someone like Santana Lopez would ever, ever be interested in someone like Rachel Berry. The first time he told her one of his crazy schemes, she'd laughed so hard she'd fallen off the stage in the auditorium. Then she told him to hush in case anyone overheard him and went reporting back to Santana.

"Look, we're probably almost over these mountains by now, so try not to think about the plane and just concentrate on how badass we're going to be and how much fucking ass we're going to kick at this thing." Puck knew that mentioning the up-coming competition would get Berry's mind off the whole potentially crashing to their death scenario she was no doubt imagining.

"Noah, don't swear. And we're only going to kick said derriere if we..." the Captain's voice over the intercom interrupted her rant.

"Ladies and gentleman. We're experiencing some technical difficulties," they could hear the co-pilot swearing in the back ground. Rachel and Puck turned towards each other, panic apparent in both sets of eyes. Hands locked around each other. "Please brace for impact." Static filled the air. A moment of silence. Then:

"Holy shit, did he...?" Finn, never the bright one.

"Everyone, please, remain calm!" Mr. Shuester tried to assert control, but his students were screaming, crying, praying and generally not paying attention to the curly haired man. The plane dropped suddenly, straight down. More screaming.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." Rachel kept chanting. She chanced a look over at Santana; the girl looked like a stone. No emotion. She stared emotionlessly at the front of the plane. But the death grip she had on her armrest gave her away.

"Noah, oh my god." That was the last thing Puck heard before the plane smashed violently into the ground.

The next few seconds were chaotic at best. The plane careened into the peak of one of a low lying cliff. It smashed through the middle of the plane, separating the back from the front. The front, wings still attached skidded off the sharp cliff and off the side, the force and speed carrying it over another low lying mountain and out of sight of the tail. The back o f the plane careened around the ledge, and then slowly slipped off the side. It slid down the side of the mountain, slamming into trees and rolling over boulders and bouncing around, until it came to a gentle rest against a giant tree. The occupants inside the tail were very quiet.

Night fell. Still the tail remained silent and still.


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel woke slowly, her head pounding and her vision grey. She turned her head, the dizziness and pain almost making her retch. When her vision cleared and she was able to focus, she surveyed the wreckage around her in silent horror. The two rows that had been in front of her were rubble, bits of plastic and metal twisted into something unrecognizable. She turned to the side, panic setting in when she saw the slumped form of her best friend.

"Noah?" she reached out to touch the boy, but the pain that radiated up her left arm stopped her. Her arm was pinned by a piece of plane wreckage. She pushed it away with her good arm. Pain radiated up, making her vision go grey again. She forced herself back. "Noah? Noah Puckerman? You answer me right now!" her voice rose, as did her panic. He remained unmoving. "Noah! Please wake up! Please!" She struggled with her seat belt one handed, finally succeeding in freeing herself.

She turned to face the silent boy beside her, and with her good arm reached for him once more. She let out a sigh of relief when she felt his chest moving. He was unconscious. She checked for an obvious neck injury, then finding none, gently leaned him back against his seat.

She gasped.

He had a horrible gash across his forehead, and the blood was everywhere. She quickly pulled off her sweater, and wadding it up, pressed it against his head wound. He groaned, but didn't awaken. She peered past him across the aisle. All that she could see of Santana was her hand; the seats in front of the Latina were piled on top. Rachel swallowed hard.

What if...what if Santana was dead?

Tears spilled over, rushing down Rachel's cheeks, stinging various cuts and scrapes along the way.

"No. No. I'm Rachel Berry. I won't sit here and cry. I will be strong. I will be useful." She twisted, moving her sore body, testing what hurt, what might be seriously injured and what she was capable of using. Her left arm was obviously broken, and in more than one spot. But her right arm was fine, only bruised and sore from being slammed against the wall of the plane. Her legs were in the same condition. Her head felt sore, so she probed it until she found the lump on the side of her head. Pressing on it she winced. Hopefully, no concussion would result from the blow. She knew she was in shock, but hoped the fuzziness would fade when the shock wore off.

She gently climbed over Noah's prone form, and using the sleeves of her sweater, tied it tightly around his head. She then looked him over for other injuries, ones that might be more serious but less noticeable.

She breathed a sigh of relief when her gentle probing didn't find any obvious breaks or injuries. Noah didn't stir once. She bit her lip as she looked towards the other side of the plane. She had to know.

Moving slowly, she stared pulling bits of rubble and wreckage away from Santana. It took a while, partly because she only had one good arm and partly because she was scared to discover what was underneath.

Finally, as the night deepened, and the cold was beginning to affect her, Rachel uncovered the Latina's body. Santana was badly hurt, if she was alive at all. The wreckage had cut into her leg, a long, jagged gash bleeding sluggishly. At least it hadn't hit an artery, Rachel thought. Another gash near Santana's shoulder, and the ugly way the joint sat indicated a dislocated shoulder. Rachel carefully reached out for the girl's chest, resting her palm over where the girl's heart was.

She cried out.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're alive. Thank God. You're alive." She breathed.

"Course I am, or do you usual' go round m'lesting corpses?" Santana's voice was weak, but the sarcasm and irritation came through loud and clear. Rachel sobbed. Santana's eyes opened and she turned slowly to look at the smaller girl. "Look like hell." Rachel just nodded, too relieved to speak. "Wha' happened?"

"We crashed. You're hurt!" Rachel felt stupid once she pointed out the obvious. Santana snorted, and then moaned.

"No shit. I wonder'd why I felt like I was run o'er by a bus. Fuckin' plane crashed. Guess you're right, Berry. S'where's everyone else?" Her voice was sounding stronger with every sentence. Rachel looked around at her last question.

"Noah," her voice hitched, "is unconscious, with a nasty head injury. I don't... I haven't had time to look for the rest of the plane." Rachel ventured to the very back of the tail, where the luggage had been stored. It was still there. Thank God for small mercies, she thought. She grabbed her suitcase and the small first aid kit, pulling it back to where the injured girl lay.

She sat on the ground by Santana's feet, and using the clothing she found in her suitcase and the bandages from the rather under stocked first aid kit, began dressing Santana's injuries. The girl complained here and there, swearing when the pain got too rough, but other than that she sat still through-out the process.

"There, that should help stop the bleeding for now. You probably need stitches, but," she held up her shaking hand, "I'm in no shape to administer them just now." She looked out the back of the plane. It was beginning to get light out, taking care of Noah and then freeing Santana had taken more time than she'd thought.

I'm going to check out where we landed, see if I can locate any familiar landmarks or the other half of the plane."

She slowly walked over to the gaping hole where the front of the plane should have been. She stepped onto the ground and walked in a small circle, looking for the rest of the plane. And the rest of the Glee club.

But for bits and pieces of plane, all she saw around them was trees and rocks. It looked like they'd crashed into the edge of a forest. She looked up, tracking the path the tail had taken down the side of the mountain, but beyond the cliffs above, she could see nothing to indicate the other half of the plane had descended nearby.

She walked further and further from the wreck, moving slowly and trying to take in as much of their surroundings as possible. More trees, a small stream. But nothing. She topped a small ridge and stared into the valley below. It was huge and wide and bordered on all sides by mountains.

They were trapped.

She fell to her knees in the hard dirt.

They were alone.

They were trapped and alone.

They were injured and they were alone.

Dear lord, what were they going to do?


	4. Chapter 4

She eventually pulled herself to her feet, and dragged her sore and tired and hopeless body back to the tail. She paused at the entrance to the tail, resting her head against the jagged metal of the side. She feared telling Santana the bad news, didn't have the energy to withstand the barrage of insults it would lead to. Somehow, she knew the Latina would make this Rachel's fault.

She finally worked up the courage to walk back into the wreckage. She found Santana standing unsteadily beside Puck, checking his wound underneath Rachel's make-shift bandage.

"It's nasty, alright," she said, turning to face a weary Rachel. "But, he should be ok if we keep it clean. If there's no brain damage..."she trailed off, watching the petite diva's face drain of color. Santana took a staggering step towards her.

"It's worse than I thought, Santana." The Latina stopped short at the girl's quiet words. "We're alone. I cannot find any sign of the front of the plane. And we're in a valley, a very large valley ringed by mountains. We're stranded." Santana remained quiet.

"Did you hear me?" Rachel screamed. "We're stranded. We're alone and Noah is...Noah's is..."Rachel couldn't finish the sentence; tears clogged her throat and poured from her eyes. Suddenly, a warm body was pressed against hers, and a strong arm dragged her against Santana's body. Rachel, mindful of the other girl's injuries, wrapped her arms around Santana and hid her tired and achy head in the crook of the taller girl's neck.

"Shhh, shh Berry. Come on now. Shhhh" Santana tried to comfort the smaller girl, rocking them slowly back and forth, rubbing the smaller girl's shaking back with her good arm. "Come on, Berry. You gotta stop this." Slowly the jagged sobs stopped, the tears became silent, and so much more heartbreaking for the Latina.

"Why aren't you yelling at me for being...for being a wimp?" Rachel hiccupped.

"Obviously you haven't taken a look in a mirror, Berry. You look like shit. Even I'm not that heartless." Santana continued to rub her hand slowly up and down Rachel's back, comforting them both. "You done watering like a fuckin' sprinkler?" Rachel laughed at the hypocritical question, but wiped her tears and nodded.

The two girls separated.

Suddenly Santana wobbled and would have fallen down in Rachel hadn't made a grab for her. Both girls moaned in pain, Santana because Rachel had put pressure on her shoulder, Rachel because she'd had to use both arms to grab the taller girl.

Holding Santana up through sheer force of will, Rachel grabbed some loose seat cushions and pushed the injured girl down onto them.

"You've lost a lot of blood. You should be resting." Rachel gently scolded the other girl.

"No, what I should be doing is taking inventory of what we crashed with and then trying to start a fire and find water." Santana had watched enough disaster shows to know what needed to be done. She went to stand up, but a surprisingly strong midget pushed her down.

"You can barely stand. I saw a stream, it's not far. I'll see if I can find some containers or something to hold the water. I'll grab the suitcases and you can go through them from here, ok?" Santana nodded and Rachel went off, cradling her injured arm tight to her body.

After Rachel collected water in several water bottles found in various peoples luggage, she collected wood for a fire. Thank God Puck was a wannabe pyromaniac; he always carried a lighter and matches in his pockets. She fished them out and built a fire pit. She didn't start the fire; they didn't need it, not yet. She then strained the water through a thin t-shirt she'd found and hoped that would be good enough as they didn't have anything to heat the water in.

She passed a bottle to Santana, urging the girl to stop every now and then to drink. The taller girl was steadily going through every piece of luggage Rachel brought from the back, discarding what was useless in one pile and storing what she deemed useful into one big purple suitcase (hers).

She gave a small cry of triumph when she opened what had to be Mercedes' bag. The girl had packed a shitload of junk food. Almost the entire suitcase was filled to the brim with candy bars, chips and other assorted goodies. They wouldn't starve. Not yet anyways. She ripped into a Snickers bar, motioning Berry to do the same.

Rachel grabbed an Eatmore bar, then proceeded back into the tail of the plane, and gently, so gently, poured water down Noah's throat. His survival depended on her ability to get him to drink plenty of fluids, and hopefully he woke up soon enough that he didn't starve. She munched on her treat, all the while worrying.

She worried about her friend. About the girl sitting outside, occasionally calling out in victory or scoffing at the idiocy of their fellow members. Rachel worried about them as well; if they were alive, if they were hurt.

Finally, she wandered back towards Santana, as if pulled by some magnetic force.

She found the other girl dutifully following her orders not to move. She'd remained seated on the cushions, pulling suitcase after suitcase in front of her. Finally, she'd gone through all of them. She had four piles around her. Rachel glanced at them in confusion.

"Food," Santana gestured to one, "Supplies" gesturing to another, "warm clothes and over here," she pointed at the biggest pile, "useless shit. Mostly Quinn and Finn's stuff, although the friendly giant did have some sweaters. Who packs 6 pairs of shoes for a weekend in Rio?" Santana spat. Rachel just laughed. It was nice to see Santana's spirit, it was reassuring.

Rachel collapsed on the ground beside Santana, her whole body shaky and aching. She laid her head back on the ground, not caring if her hair got dirty. She was tired. She was tired to her soul. She just wanted to sleep.

"Hey! Berry! Hey!" Santana's voice sounded as if it were coming from very far away. Rachel slowly lifted heavy eyelids. Above her, a panicked Latina loomed. "Open your goddamn eyes! Yes! Berry! Berry!" Rachel's eyes drifted shut again. She just wanted a nap. She'd be better after. "Rachel, open your fucking eyes!" Santana sounded desperate. Rachel's eyes drifted open again.

Santana shook her. Hard.

"You have a concussion, you little idiot. Don't think I didn't see the blood or the bump. No sleeping. Come on. Stay with me midget!" Santana shook her again.

"You called me Rachel." That wasn't her voice was it? All dreamy and quiet.

"What the fuck?" Santana's voice in contrast was sharp and rough.

"My name. You said my name. I like when you say my name." Rachel was rambling, drifting in and out. Everything was hazy, going in and out of focus. But Santana had said her name. For the first time since elementary school.

"You're crazy. Stay with me. Rachel!" Santana's voice cracked, desperation choking her. She dug her fingers into Rachel's shoulders. The smaller brunettes eyes were glazed over and she kept mumbling about Santana saying her name. "If you stay awake, I'll call you Rachel anytime you want. K?" Santana was willing to promise the moon and the stars if the damn midget would just stay the fuck awake!

"It sounds nice. When you say it. If I asked, would you say it when you kiss me?" Rachel's voice was quiet now, more of a murmur than actual words. Santana's eyebrow rose up at the whispered question. Well, well, well. Shit. Focus Lopez!

"I'll do anything you want. You just gotta stay awake, k? I'll do whatever it takes."Santana made this about Berry, and not the desperate longing she had to kiss the girl. The tiny brunettes eyes fluttered closed. "Rachel!" Santana dropped her head and pressed her lips tightly against the other girls. She pulled back quickly, oh too quickly.

But it had Rachel's eyes opening. She stared in wonder up at the darker girl. She reached up with a shaky hand and gently eased loose strands of hair back behind Santana's ear.

"Thank you," Rachel whispered. But she kept her eyes open and on Santana.

They stayed looking at each other for hours. Neither girl said anything, and if Rachel's eyes began to droop, Santana would swoop down and kiss her awake. They traded kisses and silence, as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

When Santana was sure Rachel wouldn't go to sleep, she rolled away and began chucking the useless stuff towards the side of the plane. She then packed the supplies and food into different suitcases and slowly dragged them to the back of the plane. To keep them safe from predators and nature, and all that.

It wasn't so that she'd stop staring at the sexiness that was Rachel Berry sprawled on the ground. Nope. That wasn't it at all. Fuck, the midget was hot. And tasted like berries for fuck sakes.

She felt strangely stronger, since their kiss. Almost...energized.

I do not fucking like Rachel "Man-hands" Berry! I do not! Santana told herself sternly. But it was no use. She'd been noticing Berry for a while now, and the kiss, while only done to keep Berry awake, had electrified the more experienced girl.

Fuck.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a loud groan. A loud, masculine groan.

Rachel must have heard it, too. She came staggering into the plane, left arm tucked up against her chest. Santana's eyes narrowed. The girl had been doing fuck knows what with an injured arm? Oh hell no. Santana caught her protective thoughts, and growled low in her throat. Berry was fucking sneaky, is what she was.

"Noah!" Rachel crouched down in front of the groaning boy.

"Fuck. Anyone get the number of the bus that hit me?" His tone was rough, but the sarcasm was pure Noah. Rachel sobbed in relief. Santana laughed at the mirror image of one of the first things she had said, post plane crash.

"God, Noah. You scared me!" Rachel was gripping the boys hand like a lifeline. Santana felt jealousy tug at her, but pushed it down. The boy had been fucking unconscious for hours. Plus, she'd liked Berry for what, all of twenty minutes. No way was she getting fucking jealous of Puckerman. But she was. She envied their ease and obvious affection.

Did she want that? With Berry of all people? Fuck, maybe she'd hit her head harder than she thought!

"M'fine, Rach. Cool the crazy." Rachel smiled. "What...what happened?" Noah seemed confused, which considering the knock he took, not that surprising.

"The plane crashed. You hit your head. You've been out for a while...I'd say well over 12 hours. Then hell froze over and Santana said I was right." Rachel's joke made both Puck and Santana smile. Puck groaned at the end of his.

"I feel like shit." He went to reach for his head, but Rachel tugged his hands down and shook her head. He shrugged. Santana watched their non-verbal conversation and felt the jealousy tug at her. She shook herself. That type of closeness had to be earned. Santana hadn't earned it yet.

But she thought she just might want to.

"Okay, kiddies. Time to do some damage control. Now that Puck's awake we have one less thing to worry bout."Santana tried to inject confidence and authority into her voice. Rachel's adoring gaze almost made her want to puff up in pride. Almost. Fuck, she wasn't a complete pansy. Puck made eye contact and she knew he knew. The fucker was laughing at her.

"Rachel," the smaller girl jolted at the sound of her name. The resulting smile made Santana's insides melt a little bit. "Why don't you grab Puck something to eat. I'll drag his lazy ass outside. Then we'll see what we can do to the inside of the hunk of junk. See if we can make it habitable." Rachel nodded, and then scurried off to the back of the plane. Santana watched her go. Then she turned back to Puck. And then saw his shit eating grin.

"Shove it Puckerman, or I'll poke you in the face. Then we'll see whose laughing then." She hauled him up, his pained groan causing her a certain sense of satisfaction.

"Dude, it's been like a day since we crashed and she's already got you whipped!" The guy was practically crowing!

"What do you mean, whipped? I told her what to do!" And Rachel had done it, too!

"Yeah, but she's got you calling her by her first name." He dropped his voice, "That's been like a dream of hers." Santana averted her face but nodded. It seemed like a pretty small dream to her, which made her feel pretty shitty about her treatment of Rachel.

She dropped Puck down on the cushions, then collapsed next to him, her temporary strength gone. She felt weak, and nauseous. Not good signs. She turned her head at Rachel's approach.

The tiny girl was grubby from the crash and her trek through the wilderness, but she was beautiful. Santana wanted to kick herself for not seeing it sooner. She knew Rachel was bossy and abrasive and way too blunt for her own good, but so was Santana. However, Santana wasn't kind and forgiving and so damn nice to everyone that she made herself an easy target. Rachel was. She also had the vocal skills of an entire squad of angels. Not that Santana had ever told her so.

Rachel walked over to Puck and knelt by his side, she handed over a KitKat bar, and Puck's face lit up.

"Fucking A, bro!" Puck tore open the package then tore into the chocolate like he hadn't eaten in days. Rachel just giggled. Then she looked over at Santana and the laughter stopped and she ducked her head. Santana noticed then that she was frowning, almost glaring at the girl in question. She wiped the expression off her face then coughed.

Rachel looked back up at her through her bangs and fuck, if that wasn't the hottest thing Santana had ever seen. The darker girl held out her hand, gesturing to the spot next to her. Rachel beamed and scooted over next to her. Santana placed her hand on the small of Rachel's back. The diva blushed. She actually blushed. Santana was sort of shocked. But it made her grin, the leer at the tiny girl jokingly. Rachel blushed harder and ducked her head again, before leaning it gently against Santana's good shoulder.

They sat around like that in silence, until Puck devoured the chocolate bar.

"What do we do next?" He asked. Rachel lifted her head and looked at Santana.

"We start a fire. Maybe someone will see the smoke? It's also a good way to keep warm and keep predators away. We've got plenty of wood," she said, gesturing to the trees around them. "Other than that, stay close to camp; maybe forage some actual food, since Mercedes' stash will only go so far. When we're all strong enough, if no one's rescued us yet, we'll have to try hiking out of here." She watched Rachel's face fall at the last part. She had to be realistic though. Hopefully the pilots had sent out a mayday, but they weren't in the same location as the radio, so they might not be found. They might have to save themselves.

"Rach, don't be like that. She said if. Someone's bound to see us." Puck's reassurance seemed to perk the brunette up. She nodded, and then leaned her head back on Santana's shoulder.

"Rachel, how capable are you feeling?" Santana was wiped, and by the amount of weight he'd put on her for the short walk outside, she knew Puck was in no condition to be walking around.

"Just tired." Rachel looked up at her. "Why?"

"We'll need more wood, and maybe see if you can find anything to eat? No berries unless you know for sure what they are." Santana warned. Rachel nodded.

"Santana, I'm a vegan. I know more about fruits and veggies and plants than most people know about normal food. We won't starve. Plus we're in the northern part of Rio which means..." Santana tuned out of Rachel's speech. She made eye contact with Puck, noted the glazed expression and the small smile and knew she wasn't the only one lost by Rachel's long winded sentences.

"And neither of you is listening. Fine." Rachel got up slowly, and wandered off into the forest surrounding them. They could hear her singing, drifting on the wind as it turned in their direction.

"She is some kind of crazy." Puck just nodded.

"You don't know the half of it. But since you brought her up, what are your intentions towards my bro?" Puck's words may have been light, but his tone and his eyes were serious. She looked away, gathered her thoughts, and looked back.

"Honestly?" He nodded. "I have no idea. I mean, its Berry, for fuck sakes!" His eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that. You know I think she's hot. I told you that back when you guys "dated"," she put air quotes around the word dated since it had lasted all of a week. "But I just got out of a crazy thing with Brittany. I'm not sure I'm ready for the crazy that is Berry." She didn't notice the singing had stopped. "I mean, that girl defines high maintenance, and do I really look like a cat calendar and serenading type? Fuck no." Puck snorted and shook his head, because no, Santana wasn't the type. "So, do I wanna get all up on that body? Hell yes. It's the psycho personality that comes with it I'm less sure about. I mean who wants to be with someone whose all demanding and clingy and loud as fuck?" Santana finished and glanced up at Puck, but he was staring over her shoulder. Fuck. Santana turned slowly, and there was Rachel, holding onto a bunch of small branches, looking crushed. She kept her head down, not making eye contact with Santana and put the branches in a pile with the rest she gathered.

Santana had to admire the balls it took to come back to their "camp" after hearing Santana's less than stellar description.

"Rach," Puck started, but she just shook her head violently. Then swayed and put a hand to her head when the action aggravated her concussion.

"Rachel!" Santana tried to stand, but her body was too drained. Rachel took a step back.

"I'll go get more water." Her voice was quiet. Defeated. She walked back into the trees, leaving a stupefied Latina in her wake.

"Fuck."

"Not now, she won't," was Puck's smartass reply.

"And fuck you, Puckerman!" Asshole could have warned her. HH


	6. Chapter 6

For the next three days, Rachel went out of her way to avoid Santana. The other two were slowly gaining their strength back, but it was obvious Rachel was the most able of the group. So she stayed out of the "camp" as much as possible. She gathered wood for the fire, and green leafy branches to make it smoke more. She trekked to and from the stream, gathering and stockpiling water in case something happened.

She foraged for food, never going very far but using it as an excuse to get away from the woman she was in love with. The woman who thought she was psycho. God, she really was an awful person. Depression lay heavily on Rachel's shoulders, the burden of the crash and the responsibility of being the only one capable of doing anything multiplied with the mental fatigue of a concussion and the constant throbbing in her arm causing her emotions to darken.

She coughed, hard, her chest constricting oddly, like it had been for the last day or so. When she stopped coughing she was short of breath and dizzy. She waited for it to pass, just like she had all the other times. Thank God Noah and Santana had never witnessed these episodes. One of them had to do all the things that needed doing. She wouldn't let a stupid cold stop her.

What she really wanted was to curl up and sleep forever. Or at least until the rescue came and saved Santana from her "crazy". She hiccupped as the tears started again. They'd spring up periodically. She sniffled and plopped down on the root of a giant tree.

It was one thing to be attracted to someone and know you have no shot. It was another thing to hear it said out loud by the object of that attraction. Rachel stared dejectedly at her hands, one dirty and useful, and the other swollen and disabled. She hadn't told the others how bad her injuries were. She'd thought Santana had suspected, but the other girl never said anything. She probably doesn't even care, Rachel told herself harshly. She only kissed you to keep you awake. And she only kept you awake because she needed you.

Stupid of you to think it was more, she told herself. Just stupid.

Rachel's hands clenched into fists involuntarily. She cried out when her left arm protested the movement. She pulled up the sleeve of the giant sweater she'd taken to wearing. She had no idea whose it was, but she found it comforting. Her left arm from above the elbow down was swollen and red. And getting worse. It hadn't been this swollen yesterday, Rachel was sure of it. There was a large bump marring her smooth skin halfway up her lower arm, probably the source of one of the breaks. Based on the bruising and areas of greater swelling, she knew there was more than one. Her arm was basically useless. But she had one good arm and was steady on her feet, unlike the other two.

Which meant she needed to stop sitting around, feeling sorry for herself and be useful. She got up and carried on, occasionally pulling edible vegetation out of the ground or off of a branch and stuffing it into the backpack she carried. Finn's backpack. Hopefully, she'd be able to return it to him. She sniffled as the thought of her ex-boyfriend not being alive for her to return it to made her weep. Again.

Eventually, she filled the backpack and stopped crying, so she made her way back to the scene of the crash.

They'd emptied out the inside of the plane, then using the seat cushions and pieces of clothing had fashioned a giant cushion big enough for the three of them to fit. Santana, as the only one without a severe concussion, slept on the outside, as she was the only one who slept lightly. Rachel usually slept in the middle as she generated the least amount of heat. Puck slept at the back. It had been the most horrific 5 days of Rachel's life. But having an excuse to sleep next to the girl of her dreams, that was heaven and hell the likes of which she'd never experienced.

As Rachel was approaching the plane, she heard it. The most glorious noise she had ever heard. She began running back towards the others, screaming and yelling. Thank god! Finally!

An engine!


	7. Chapter 7

The search and rescue guys had been impressed with their ability to survive. They'd hauled Puck up to the waiting helicopter in a basket, the boy still unable to move very far. Santana and Rachel waited below for their turn, tears of relief in both their eyes. If their hands were clasped, neither mentioned it.

As they lowered the basket again, Santana turned towards the smaller brunette and cupped her face gently. She noticed the heat under Rachel's skin, the bags under Rachel's eyes, and the sharpness of her cheekbones. Despite the fact that it had only been 5 days since the crash and they'd had food, the pounds had seemed to melt off Rachel's body

"When we get back and after you get that fucking arm looked at and taken care of, you and I are gonna have us a chat!" Rachel looked alarmed. "Rach," Santana started, but the S&R guy was back, so she ushered Rachel into the basket, not able to stand the thought of Rachel waiting down here alone. Rachel went up, eyes locked on Santana the entire time.

Once Santana was on board, the helicopter took off, headed for a hospital in Rio, which was the closest city to their current location. Santana watched the medic on board look at first Puck, the Rachel. The guy actually swore when he saw her arm. He said something into his microphone, and it felt like the helicopter picked up speed. She met Puck's gaze, saw the same emotion in his eyes. Concern.

What had Berry done to herself?

Once in the Rio hospital, the three of them were split up. As soon as the doctor stitched up her cuts (and fuck, pain killers were awesome) she was demanding to see Rachel. Demanding to know if anyone else had been rescued. But mostly, demanding to see Rachel. The doctor avoided her questions, instead he showed her to a waiting room.

A waiting room full of the Glee club and more importantly, her family. She cried out and ran into her Papi's arms. They closed around her tightly. For the first time in almost 5 days, she felt safe. She heard him murmuring in Spanish, felt her mother pressed against her back, and for the first time since the plane crashed, let herself cry.

When she was all cried out, she raised her head and stepped back from her father. He kept a tight grip on her hand. She looked around the room noticing who was here and who wasn't. Quinn; looking pale but unharmed. Finn, one arm in a sling. Sam, Mercedes, Artie, Mike and Tina; all with bumps and bruises but otherwise fine. She saw Puck's mom, and who she could only assume where Rachel's dads. But...

"Where's Brittany?" she asked, looking to her mom and dad. Her Papi flinched. "Papi? Where's Brittany? And Mr. Shue?" She began to panic. "Where's Brittany?"

"Sani, sweetheart, calm down. Shhhh. Brittany hit her head during the crash. She hasn't woken up yet."Santana started to cry. Not her beautiful, bubbly Brittany. "Shhh. The doctor's are confident she'll be ok. She's just got some swelling. When it goes down, she'll wake up. They've flown her back home so her family can be there for her. Shhh now." Big hands rubbed her back, comforting her. But what about Mr. Shue?

"And Mr. Shue?" She asked hesitating. Maybe she didn't want to know.

"He's in the other room, talking to your principle!" Santana nearly cried again, in relief. Everyone had made it! She couldn't believe it. A plane had fucking crashed, and her entire family, the entire Glee club had made it. Un-fucking-believable! But thank God!

A crowd of doctors swept into the room. Mrs. Puckerman and the Misters Berry stood up anxiously. The stood in a huddle. Santana saw Mrs. Puckerman sit down heavily, relief evident in her every pore. The Berry's however, looked more and more concerned. Santana frowned. She'd been with Rachel not even an hour ago, the tiny diva was fine. She had to be fine.

She pulled away from her father and approached the group. She heard the words "infection" "bone marrow" "surgery needed" and "risky" before she'd fully reached them.

"Rachel's ok, right?" No one answered her, but the Berry's turned towards her. "Rachel? She has to be ok. I just saw her. She's ok right? Will someone answer me? She's ok, isn't she?" Santana was shaking one of the doctors by her lab coat at the end of her questions. "Isn't she?" She screamed. She felt hands pulling her away, and she struggled as much as her weary body would let her. Adrenaline coursed through her. "She has to be. Rachel has to be!" Her dad turned her, pressing her face into his shoulder, trying to calm his hysterical daughter.

"Santana? Your Santana, right?" One of Rachel's dads's asked the smaller of the two. She nodded. He smiled, which was unexpected to say the least. "Our Rachel is always talking about you." Santana frowned in confusion, because he was still smiling at her. "About how talented you are, as a singer and a cheerleader. How strong you are. It's nice to have a face to put to the name we hear a million times a day." Santana choked back the tears that wanted to start up again. Rachel said that...about her? About the girl who systematically destroyed Rachel, everyday. The girl who called her "Man-hands" and "Treasure trail"? Well, fuck. Rachel Berry was a saint. That was all there was to it.

"Is she...is she ok?" She asked her voice small and so unlike her. She swallowed. "She was okay in the helicopter. So she has to be ok, right?" She looked to the Fathers Berry for reassurance. The smaller one paled, the taller, black father swallowing hard.

"No, sweetheart, she isn't. Apparently, her left arm was broke in four places, and bone marrow leaked into her bloodstream, which apparently causes a very bad infection, which got into Rachel's lungs. She's very sick. The doctor's need to repair her arm, which they say is so damaged, she'll need a metal bar inserted. They're also going to give her antibiotics, but they don't know if the infection will respond. She may have been sick too long." The shorter Mr. Berry looked away, tears glimmering in his eyes as the other man finished his description. "She over-exerted herself, and it wore down her system. They don't know if she'll pull through."

Those words echoed through Santana's head. First the news about Brittany; now Rachel. Santana fell down into a chair and out her head in her hands. She'd come to the very painful realization that her feelings for Rachel went beyond lust those 3 days Rachel had avoided her back at the crash site. This, what she felt now, was agonizing. Love and guilt and pain and fear, all tangled up inside her body.

If only she'd been stronger. She'd thought Rachel was okay. She knew her arm had been injured, but Rachel never indicated it was that bad. She should have done something. She should have made the smaller girl rest more. The 'should have's' and 'what if's' circled around and around in her head. They continued to torment her, as they sat in that little room and waited to hear any news about Rachel's surgery. Her father sat on one side of her, her hand gripping his. Her mother sat on her father's other side, a hand on top of their entwined hands. Other her other side, she gripped the smaller Mr. Berry's hand just as tightly.


	8. Chapter 8

Six hours later, the same group of doctors from before entered the waiting room. The entire room surged to their feet. Even Puck, who had joined them a few hours ago after being checked out, jumped out of his wheelchair.

The doctors smiled. The room breathed out.

"It went well. The arm should be functioning at almost 100% in a few months. It'll be stiff at first, but with physiotherapy, she should regain full control." The crowd cheered. Santana and Rachel's fathers smiled, but it wasn't over. "She's responding to the drug therapy we have her on. It looks like the infection should begin to clear up in three or four days." Santana's legs gave out. The bigger Mr. Berry, John, caught her as she fell. He hauled her up and spun her around. He kissed her forehead then passed her back to her own father, before embracing his husband.

"Can we see her?" The smaller man asked.

"She's still a little groggy, but she is awake. She's been asking for someone since she woke up. Is there..." The doctor here paused, obviously embarrassed. Santana looked up hopefully. "Is there someone named...Fuck here?" Santana's head dropped as everyone in the room laughed.

"Puck, my name is Puck!" Noah laughed. The doctor seemed relieved.

"My apologies. Like I said she's a little groggy."

"Must be, if she's calling me Puck!" He joked as he followed the doctors back with Rachel's dads. One of them clapped him on the shoulder. Santana felt tears well up in her throat. Before they could fall though, Puck was back. With a smirk of epic proportions on his face.

"She couldn't say your name. Not legibly. But she knew I would know what she meant." Santana wasn't following. "She wants to see you. Which is why she was asking for me," he laughed as Santana jumped up and ran past him. She sprinted down the hall as fast as she could, until she saw the bigger Mr. Berry standing in the hall. He was crying, she slowed as she neared, but he just smiled and pointed at the room behind him.

"Good tears," he choked out. She nodded. Must be where Rachel got her happy tears from.

She pushed the door open, suddenly nervous. The other Mr. Berry smiled when he saw her and gestured her closer to the bed. On it lay a pale but still the most beautiful thing Santana had ever seen. She grabbed Rachel's unbandaged hand gently, mindful of the I.V sticking out of it. Rachel squeezed her hand back.

"Hi, sleepy head," Santana managed to whisper around the obstruction in her throat.

"Iwvu" Rachel murmured. Santana just stared at her. "Ilvwu," the girl in the bed tried again.

"Rach, I'm sorry. I don't understand." Rachel shifted her eyes to over Santana's shoulder. Rachel's dad slipped past the standing girl, and leaning down, slipped a straw between the exhausted girl's lips. She sipped sluggishly.

"I love you," she finally managed. All Santana could do was stare at her in wonder. "Just, wanted to tell you." Rachel's eyes moved until she was staring at her bed sheet, the hand Santana was holding, going limp in her grasp.

"I love you, too. And if you ever scare me like that again, I won't speak to you for at least a day." Santana let a smile enter her voice, to show that she was joking. Rachel smiled, not her usually wide grin, but her tired body wouldn't let her show the joy she felt bursting within. Santana glanced at Rachel's father.

"I'll just go see what's keeping your dad." He bent down and kissed Rachel's forehead before turning to leave the room.

"I love you, daddy," Rachel said slowly. The man turned back and smiled.

"I love you, too Princess. I'll be back." With that he turned and left the two girls alone. Santana sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle the injured girl.

"God, Rach. You really scared me." Santana looked down into tired, but happy eyes. "And I've never been so mad at you as I was this entire week. I can't believe you managed to avoid me for 3 days during a plane crash! You are some kind of crazy!" Santana wanted to take the last words back as soon as she said them. Rachel's eyes dimmed, sliding away from the Latina. "But I'm thinking I like your brand of crazy, as I seem to be hopelessly in love with you." Rachel smiled.

"Really?" she asked quietly. "You don't mind?" Santana just laughed. Then leaned down and did what she'd been wanting to do for days. She kissed the girl. Their lips met, clung and tangled. And it was the best kiss of Santana's life. She couldn't wait for Rachel to regain her strength and then try this when they both had the energy for it. She got shivers just thinking about it. Or maybe it was the brunette currently trying to suck her soul out through her mouth.

She pulled back. Rachel pouted. Santana just grinned.

"When you're better, I'll kiss you all you want." Rachel smiled. "And much more." This time, Santana laughed as Rachel blushed. "Trust me, you'll like it."

"I have no doubt!"


	9. Chapter 9

Epilogue:

Two months after the plane crash, Rachel and Santana were sprawled out in Rachel's bed, after a truly amazing date. They were tangled together; certain important articles of clothing pushed up or pulled off. They were kissing, trying to be quiet. Rachel's dads didn't mind if Santana stayed over (probably since there was no fear of her getting Rachel preggers, not that she was complaining), but they didn't want to push the rules by being noisy.

Rachel's arm was still a bit stiff, but there were no other after affects from her infection or injury. Puck was on the mend as well, although, he'd never be allowed to play contact sports again. He was just glad he was alive. Brittany had eventually woken up from her coma. She was a bit slower these days, but still her usual sunny self, so no one who loved her paid any attention to the fact that she couldn't remember the date or her phone number. It wasn't a very large change from before anyways. Finn's arm had been wrecked in the crash, so he would never throw another football again. Other than that, the Glee club was recovering from the mental affects of being in a traumatizing event such as a plane crash.

After they got out of the hospital and were back home in Lima; Rachel, Santana and Puck learned the events from the other half of the plane. The front end, still being attached to the wings, had managed to skim over another mountain and end up on another side of the mountain range completely. Which was why it took so long for Search and Rescue to find the tail, because it was farther away than they thought possible give where the front end landed. The pilot was the only casualty of the crash, when his head slammed against the glass of the front window upon the first impact that separated the plane in two. The co-pilot managed to guide the rest of the plane down into a glade, and then radioed for help. The Glee club had been fortunate that rescue had come only hours after the crash. They'd then spent the next 5 days praying and hoping that the three in the back had survived what the S&R team called a brutal impact. But eventually someone had seen the smoke and the trio had been picked up.

Santana and Rachel had taken time when they got home to get to know each other, without the stress of survival weighing them down. As time passed, they fell more and more in love with each other the more they discovered. It turns out, Santana is the master of handling Rachel's crazy, and Rachel had a way of evening out Santana's rougher side, making the taller girl more fun to be around. Which made Glee even more dynamic.

Rachel couldn't wait to use that new dynamic to "kick ass" at Regional's next month, as her girlfriend and best friend were fond of saying.


End file.
